Back Home Again in Indiana
For years, our St. Patrick’s Day tradition consisted of forgetting to wear green and at some point remembering to blast a Dropkick Murphys song. Both of those traditions were coming in strong this year, but we also added a new one to the mix: bangers and mash. Jesse suggested it and I immediately shot it down, but then I Googled recipes, saw how easy it is, and a new tradition was born. I used this recipe for the mash and this one for the gravy. My only regret is using chicken sausage which rendered zero fat for the gravy so I’ll be doing a pork sausage next year (assuming I remember).
Because looking like I had nothing to do with his creation isn’t enough, Boogs has to also act exactly like Jesse which he’s taken to a new level by constantly asking me what we’re having for dinner. He’ll ask first thing in the morning – I’m talking not even 6 in the am first thing in the morning – it’s the first thing he asks when I pick him up from school, and it’s now his favorite question to ask while we’re having dinner. I’ll tell him, “This is it, dude, this is dinner,” and he’ll say, “No, what are we having for dinner after I go to bed?” which is Boogs code for “tomorrow”. Lord help me, there are two of them.
Boogser has told me out of nowhere the last few days, “I didn’t hit any people today” and I’m not sure if that’s code for, “I hit everyone today” or not. I’m also not sure if he stole a dinosaur toy from school or not. It doesn’t look familiar, but if you ask him if he took it from school, he’ll sometimes tell you yes and sometimes tell you no. Kids are fun.
Speaking of how fun kids are, I saw this post of games to play with your kids while you’re lying down the other day, and it. is. brilliant. We haven’t tested any of them out yet, but I’m 1000% confident What’s On My Butt will be making an appearance this weekend.
The other day I was getting Boogser in the car when he asked if we could go to the cabin because he wanted to float (we got a little extra with the 11th hour cabin we rented in Gatlinburg last year and it had a private pool in the basement), and it was all I could do to keep from sobbing as I told him no, we couldn’t go on vacation right now because if there’s one thing I could use right now, it’s a vacation. But then a couple days later we got the invitation for Jesse’s family reunion in the mail and two seconds later decided to hit Charleston for vacation instead of Denver and my soul felt 85% revived. If this vacation plan sounds familiar, it’s because we attempted to hit Charleston last year but got hurricaned out (thus the boujee cabin in Gatlinburg). If we get hurricaned out again this year, I’m taking it as a sign that we are now dead to Charleston and officially giving up. But I’ll be needing some fried oysters for the road.